


We Don't Change That Much

by writingbees



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Feelings Realization, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Honestly the porn is a plot device that is more of an afterthought?, Like 0/10 wouldn't recommend for the porn, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, POV First Person, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Reminiscing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:33:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27953165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingbees/pseuds/writingbees
Summary: He rested his forehead against mine, his body radiating heat against mine, his bright blue eyes staring into mine, his hands caressing my face.Oh.---Steve and Bucky have been friends with benefits for a few months. Many times, Bucky has had the realization that he wants something more, but now realizes Steve wants the same.(Written in Bucky's first person POV)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a tumblr post I saw a billion years ago (I started this in October, don't expect me to be able to find anything from that long ago on that hellsite) that basically is like "when you realize the person you're banging has feelings for you mid bang session". 10/10 fic idea that morphed into this. When I say don't read it for the porn, I really mean it; definitely not my best work and has too much introspection and thought. The banging is described only in the first chapter, but reading it is important to the story. If you like it, leave a comment here or come yell at me on tumblr about it (I'm smartbumblebees over there). This is unbeta'd, so any errors are on me. Happy reading!

Bucky: R u still up 4 tonite?

Steve: I wouldn’t say born ready, but yes. And Jesus Christ, learn to type, Buck.

I grinned down at my phone, chuckling a little as I put it back into it’s home in my pocket. I really only wrote like that to get a reaction out of him because I knew it made him mad, and it would be wrong to say I didn’t like him riling him up like that. Being back in the real world without the constant deep-seated state of dread, nothing brings me more joy than Steve losing his mind when I act my physical age: obvious spelling mistakes, groaning about kids these days, trying way too hard to relate to Peter (we actually get along quite well; Peter loves playing the gag with me and catching me up on everything I’ve miss).

I’m was happy being on the same side as Steve again. HYDRA, or at least what I could remember, had shown me the worst side of humanity, and seeing Steve again reminded me that there is genuine good out there, annoying as it often may be. _He spent 2 years hunting me down,_ I often thought. _Good to know he still cares._ In the few moments of lucidity while in the thick of it, I often thought of Steve. He was my anchor, one of the very few things that kept me almost sane when the brainwashing started to wane and all the many horrors of what I’d participated in, what I did, flooded back into my brain.

A pencil hit me in the back of my head where I stood in the kitchen, holding a full bowl and staring out the window to the city outside. “Would you stop daydreaming and bring the chips already?” Sam asked from the couch. “The game is about to start and you know how I feel about football and chips.”

“Y’know, you should treat your elders with respect, sonny.” I smirked and pitched my voice to sound older, hobbling over to the living room with the bowl. “I remember having to make chips out of potatoes in a stove that barely worked. I grew the potatoes with my own hands in the middle of winter. Chips were a luxury few could afford, and we suffered to make them.”

“Man, shut the hell up.” He threw a pillow at me as I sat in the opposite chair, taking the bowl and turning the volume up on the tv. “Growing potatoes my ass.”

* * *

I knocked on Steve’s door, shaking in the cold winter air, the last drags of a cigarette trembling between me fingers. I was a bit earlier than expected, but I knew Steve would be okay with that if it meant I’d be warm and have brushed my teeth beforehand. In all honesty, Sam had kicked me out for the night. _Your pacing around is ruining my date, and she’s not even here yet,_ he’d said as he’d bodily forced me out the door. But I couldn’t blame him, really. Too much excited nervous energy that I couldn’t do anything with. “Come on, Steve.” I muttered through gritted teeth, knocking again. The cold air bit through my hoodie and I finished the smoke, flicking the butt into the gutter.

The door opened a minute later with Steve running a towel through his hair. “You’re early.” He said, surprised. He stared at me a few moments before coming to his senses. “Come in, come in. The door was unlocked; how long have you been standing there?”

I stepped through the threshold, hit by a wave of warm air and cooking food. “Not too long. Whatcha cooking? Smells like orange chicken.” I kicked my sneakers off and headed into the kitchen in hopes of stealing a bite.

“It’ll be done in a few minutes. Figured you could use a home cooked meal over takeout for once.” He followed behind me, picking up my carelessly discarded hoodie and folding it. “Sit, I’ll serve it. Want a drink?”

I chuckled a little, sitting at the kitchen island. “Coffee, if that’s an option.” I watched as Steve moved through his kitchen, humming absently to himself. I enjoyed watching him, finally comfortable in his own space and his own body. Back in the day, he’d been so sick all the time and I’d had to take care of him for so long. Now, he could take care of himself and that was clearly something he was proud of. Part of me missed his reliance on me; as hard as it is to admit I like feeling needed, useful to the people around me in a way that wasn’t hurting anyone. The other part… Well, at least Steve still wanted me.

A steaming plate of food and a cup of coffee were set in front of me, pulling me from the thoughts in my head. “Thanks, Steve.” I smiled, chowing down and moaning happily. “God, you’re such a good cook. Much better than the old days.”

The lightest of blushes rose from the collar of Steve’s shirt. “I’ve had quite a bit of practice. And having consistently working appliances certainly helps.” He smiled, easily taking the compliment. We ate in relative quietness, catching up on the last week and talking about the weather. Really, anything that made this feel like a normal evening between the two of us. He cleared their dishes once we’d eaten and started washing the dishes.

“Can I help?” I asked, jumping to my feet. Steve waved me off, but that wasn’t going to stop me from packing up the leftovers and drying the dishes. “You did the cooking, least of all I can help clean up.”

Steve gave me a soft smile, nudging me slightly with his hip. “Thanks, Buck, but you really don’t have to.”

“I know, but I want to. Stop being a sap and let me.” I rolled my eyes dramatically, putting the dishes away just the way Steve liked them. “I’m gonna grab a quick smoke and I’ll be back.” I grabbed my smokes from my hoodie and headed back out into the chilly night.

This was almost a ritual at this point. We’d eat, I’d have a smoke and get cleaned up while Steve got ready, we’d fuck, and I’d head home. That was how we did things now, and it had been that way for months. I was comfortable enought with this, and we’d agreed that it wasn’t anything more than a casual arrangement, nor was it going to be. We had professional lives that could suffer if we cared too much about each other, after all. I finished my cigarette and headed back inside.

Steve was leaning against the counter, watching me keenly. I raised an eyebrow at the small change in attitude, but headed toward the bathroom anyways. He intercepted me on the way, a hand clenched around my shirt.

“Everything okay?” I asked, more confused than anything. Stebe looked fine, but this was out of character for him. We had a routine damnnit, and this wasn’t part of it.

Steve pushed me against the wall and kissed me hard, winding a free hand into my hair. He pressed our hips together, grinding against me and moaning. “Need it.” He murmured against my lips. His body was hot, shaking slightly in the desperate need.

Caught off guard as I was, I nodded. “I got you.” I pushed Steve off and led him to the bedroom, forgoing the rest of our routine for this new change in tone. I walked into the bedroom first and was surprised to find it already set up for the night: lube and water on the nightstand, blankets pulled off the bed, lights dimmed. I turned around to ask what he needed, but Steve was more interested in getting started, kissing me and working on my jeans.

I was pushed back towards the bed, both of us losing our clothes somewhere along the way. Our hands were all over each other, and I couldn’t help marveling at how smooth Steve was. “You shaved.” I muttered between kisses, hands coursing down his chest. “What’s the occasion, Cap?”

“No reason.” Steve said after a few beats too long. He pushed me onto the bed, falling to his knees. “God, you…” He reached out a very sure hand, grasping my very quickly swelling cock. “You seem to like it.” He looked up at me with a quick smirk and pulled the tip into his mouth.

I let out a deep groan, a hand quickly finding his hair and tightening in it. Steve had always been good with his mouth, even when we were young and had no idea what we were doing. Now, with age and practice, he was even better. I loved watching him work. He commanded our team in the field, doing what needed to be done with confidence and without hesitation. In the bedroom he was the same but more desperate. In all aspects of his life, Steve knew what he wanted and how to get it.

The all too familiar tightening forced its way through my thoughts and I pulled Steve off. “Someone’s desperate tonight, hey?” I tried to smirk, but the look of Steve’s swollen lips and blown out pupils made me falter slightly. This was new. I stood, maintaining my gaze on my needy friend beneath me. “On the bed. Let me get you ready.” He quietly whimpered and crawled onto the bed, legs spread and chest pressed into the mattress. I took my time with the sight of Steve spread in front of me, all needy and ready. And by ready, I meant it. Pressed firmly between his cheeks sat a small red gem set into a black plug that I could only assume had been there since before I’d arrived. A small moan left my lips and I lubed up a couple fingers. “I doubt you even need these.” I chuckled breathily as I pushed the fingers in, scissoring them to spread the lube around.

“Buck, please…” Steve whimpered, legs quaking and pushing back against my fingers. “Wanna… Wanna see you… I’m ready, please, just let me see you.” He begged, near sobbing.

I pulled my fingers from his body and pressed a gentle kiss to the base of his spine. “On your back or riding me? Your choice.” I whispered, climbing onto the bed beside him. He moved instead of responding by pushing me onto my back and hopping onto my hips. He pressed a firm, wanting kiss to my lips that travelled down my neck as he lined himself up and sat down on my cock with a loud, muffled moan. My hands on his hips clenched, nails biting into the flesh of his hips as I bucked into him. As desperate as we both were, he ground his hips against mine, starting a slow and painfully steady pace. He threw his head back as he bounced slowly, moaning in pleasure. His hands rested on my chest, flexing every few seconds before committing to scratching and leaving marks. I gasped, arching up and changing the angle enough to elicit another sound from him. He looked down at me and the look in his eyes…

It took us a while to get to this point, fucking for the pleasure but without the romance. When this started, we were too busy, wrapped up in our own lives for any sort of serious commitment. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t almost caught feelings a couple times, but that’s not what this was. The look in Steve’s eyes as he bounced on my cock, whining and moaning in pleasure, though? There was something… Deeper in it. This wasn’t cock-drunk Steve that I’d seen many times before.

“Fuck, Buck, please…” He whined, bouncing up and down more desperately. “Please, I need you…” He leaned down, moaning at the angle change, and kissed me hard, holding my face a little too gently for the moment. The kiss was chaste, his soft lips urgent against mine but not forcing for more. His hips relaxed to a pleasant grinding as he kissed me, hands coursing gently over my skin. This change in pace was unexpected in the least, but having a slower rhythm helped eased the pressure building in my body. He rested his forehead against mine, his body radiating heat against mine, his bright blue eyes staring into mine, his hands caressing my face.

_Oh._

Heat built in my chest and I pulled him into a firm kiss, thrusting my hips up into his and pounding into him. He buckled against me, gasping at my change in pace and tone. With a little effort, I flipped us over, Steve on his back. He immediately clawed at my back as I pounded into him, moaning and begging for more. I kissed up and down his chest wherever I could reach, sucking dark hickeys into his skin, marking him. One of his hands released itself from my spine and reached between us, stroking himself roughly in time with my thrusts. I let out a deep growl and thrust into him even faster, watching his blissed out face tense as he came closer and closer. I leaned my head beside his ear and nipped at the shell. “Cum for me, baby.”

Steve let out a shout of profanities, his body arching into mine as I felt his hot cum splash against my chest, his ass tightening around my cock. A few more thrusts and I buried myself inside him, filling him.

I collapsed against his chest, my heartbeat and his breathing ringing in my ears. His hands started stroking my back, his own breath starting to level out as his body relaxed and came down from the high. After a couple minutes I pulled out of him and rolled over beside him. I grabbed us each a bottle of water and handed one over.

“Thanks,” he breathed, taking the bottle and uncapping it to take a long drink. We laid there in silence for a few minutes while our heart rates calmed down. In that time, staring up at the ceiling, I couldn’t help but think about what had happened, what made this different from every other time. There was an obvious change in dynamic. Usually, we were rough with each other; pinning each other down, denial, some form of bondage. He’d never laid things out beforehand, never prepped himself, never showed he wanted it so badly. And that look in his eyes. He used to give me that look all the time when we were younger, when we were naive and didn’t know what it all meant. He was softer then too, taking his time, enjoying things as they happened. Since he was more fragile then, he was the one in control, who decided how things were happening even in his most wanton of states. Now, he wanted me to make the decisions; he made enough in the course of a day. But I saw that old Steve taking steps to come out again.

I turned my head to face him, those brilliant blue eyes that have gotten me through more times than he or I cared to think about. “Steve,” I started, not entirely sure what to say but knowing I had to say something.

He cut me off with a kiss, sweet but with need still leaking through. “Get out of your head, Buck.” He sat up and grimaced, touching the cooling cum on his chest. “Ugh. I need a shower, you coming with?” He grinned, biting his lip and flashing his best bedroom eyes.

I pushed all the deep thoughts down and sighed, rolling off his bed. “Whatever you say, punk.”


	2. Chapter 2

We had sex four more times that night: once in the shower, once in the kitchen, and twice before falling asleep. I tried several times to head home, knowing we each had an early day the next day, but he refused. _It’s late, you’d hate to wake Sam. And we both have to be at the tower tomorrow morning anyway, we could head in together._ Stupidly, I let that be enough to convince me to stay.

I got up before he did. Got dressed, put on a pot of coffee, made a light breakfast for the two of us. As I heard Steve start to move in his room, my phone that had haphazardly been flung on the floor in the heat of the previous night started buzzing. “Morning, Sam.” I said when I answered it, resuming the preparations for breakfast.

“Good, you’re not dead then.” Sam’s breathy voice came through the speaker. He always went for a run in the mornings, so I could only imagine this was peak time for morning phone calls.

I rolled my eyes. “I do like to stay out some nights, you know. Besides, you would’ve been pissed if I came home and you were banging Esther.”

“Laura. Damn, if you’re gonna name drop, at least make sure it’s the right one.” He chuckled and waited a moment. “You coming to the office with him.”

Steve came into the kitchen behind me and started pouring coffee for us both, flashing that golden boy smile. “Yeah,” I grinned at him. “We’re having breakfast and heading over.”

“Breakfast. Defintely friends with benefits territory.” He replied, sarcasm pouring from the words.

“I don’t have to take that from you. See you in an hour.” I hung up before he could mock me further and grabbed the plates of fruit, sausage, and toast and took them to the table. “Sleep well?” I asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

He shrugged, stretching his back. “Well, it’s the first time I’ve slept with someone else in my bed in, oh, 70 years? And you’re still a furnace. Had to throw the blankets off and everything.” He chirped, taking a piece of toast.

I huffed and made an abomination of a breakfast sandwich with the fruit included. “Listen here, grandpa. You’re the one who wanted me to stay the night, you can’t complain about me running hot. Especially when you were clinging to me most of the night.” I said, staring at my sandwich as I felt the heat rush up my neck.

“Fair enough.” He conceded. We sat in awkward silence, neither of us looking at the other while we ate. When we were finished, he did the washing, I did the drying. We stood shoulder to shoulder, our hands brushing more often than could be said to be accidental. “Bucky, I-”

“You ready for the meeting? I hear Fury is going to tear us apart again for our last mission.” I cut him off, not wanting to have the conversation now. I know it needed to happen, but quite frankly it was too early in the morning and we had work to get to; now wasn’t the time to get distracted.

We headed out to work 15 minutes later, alternating between walking shoulder to shoulder and an arms reach away. I could tell he kept trying to start the conversation, but I shut it down at every avenue; this was a talk we needed to have on our own, not in the middle of the street on a Thursday morning with people rushing to work all around us. We parted ways when we got to Avengers Tower, each of us having our own responsibilities to take care of. I didn’t see or hear much from him until around 2:30, when he finally texted me.

Steve: We need to talk. I know you’re avoiding it, but I can’t let you.

Steve: 6:00. I’m making your old favorite.

I stared at the screen, letting the words sink into me. Now that he’d pointed it out, the gravity of the situation started to hit. This was going to be it: the conversation we realistically should have had weeks, if not months ago. It took me a minute to realize how scared the prospect of it made me. When we were younger, we didn’t label ourselves or our relationship. We were just two guys who knew how best to make the other feel good. Now, in a society filled with people who defined themselves a certain way and who insisted others do the same, it was different. Our friends had started to settle down, find their people, have families. It only made sense that Steve would want to start down that path now. We used to talk about it; how we’d buy a house, get a pet, and live together until one of us died. It was a pipe dream back in the day, not really something that could have happened but was fun to think about. Now, though? Now it was an option.

* * *

I rang his doorbell just before 6. It had started snowing a couple hours earlier and the white powder covered everything in sight, including me and the flowers I brought him. They were Natasha’s idea, something of a peace offering. I’ve never been the flower type, but I know how much he appreciated them all the same.

He didn’t leave me waiting too long, answering the door a minute or so after I rang. “Oh!” He grinned upon seeing the bouquet. “You didn’t have to get me those.”

I shrugged, trying to calm my nerves. “You like flowers, and you haven’t had any in a while.” I said, handing them to him. He took them and stepped aside, letting me in. The house smelled of stewing meat and roasting vegetables, a combination of smells I hadn’t had in decades. I stripped off my snow covered jacket and headed into the kitchen. “Smells amazing, as always.”

He smiled, arranging the flowers in a vase. “It’s one of the few recipes I know by heart. I couldn’t screw it up if I tried.” He set the vase off center of the set table, and I realized how official this was. Steve never put down a table cloth, let alone using the good dishware. I helped him bring over the food and drinks, willing my hands to stop shaking long enough that I didn’t drop anything on the ground. We sat at the table and served ourselves, awkward tension filling the silence.

We cracked at the same time, starting to speak at once. I let out a chuckle and he bowed his head, both of us a little more than embarrassed. He raised his head and I shrugged, letting him speak first.

He took a deep breath, setting his fork and knife on his plate. “I know these last few months… They’ve, well, they’ve been a lot of fun.” He chuckled, his cheeks growing darker with every passing moment. He started fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “And I know we said it wasn’t anything serious, just something to blow off steam. We agreed that was the best idea, and I was okay with it. Genuinely, I thought that’s what was best. We… You were finally…” He looked at me sympathetically, knowing what he wanted to say wasn’t the most kind thing.

“I was finally back to my old self. Or, more like the old me.” He said with a gentle smile. “I know you don’t want to hurt me, Steve. But call it like it is. I tried to kill you, three times. That’s not nothing. After that, it _should_ take some time to rebuild the… Whatever we had when we were younger.”

He nodded frantically. “Exactly. Which is why I was okay with this not being anything serious. We both needed time to figure each other out again, get to know each other.” He stopped, biting his lip. “But we already did.”

It felt like a rock hit the bottom of my stomach. “Yeah, we did. Nothing had changed.” We sat for a few minutes with nothing but the sound of the furnace to fill the void. “When?” He cocked his head, looking at me curiously. “When did you… Figure it out?”

“Uh…” He ran a shaky hand through his hair. “A couple weeks ago. But I didn’t think you were ready. I thought I could bury the feeling like I buried them before.”

I chuckled a little. “You’re impossible, you know that?” Again, he looked at me with confusion. “You… We could have talked about it then, Steve. I… I’ve caught feelings for you and buried them so many times I could open my own graveyard. I… God, I can’t believe I’m saying this.” I took a deep breath, running my tongue over my teeth. “I love you, Steve. And I know you love me. You did a shit job hiding it last night.”

His eyes went a little wide and he chuckled, standing up. “I thought I was doing a half decent job.” He pushed my shoulder to move my chair back and sat in my lap, draping his arms around my neck. “What gave it away?”

“When you were riding me.” I wrapped my arms around his waist. This was the closest we’d intentionally been in decades and it made my already fluttering heart nearly stop. “When you put your forehead on mine and held my face. Your eyes were so blue, saying the words you’d been holding back since we were kids. I knew then.”

He pressed his forehead to mine and we just stared into each other’s eyes, having a conversation we never needed to have out loud. I used to hear people talking about the strings that connect us, how there’s someone out there who you were meant to be with, who knew your every move without you making it, your every thought without you saying it. How that person would fill your every need and would never leave you wanting more. I didn’t believe it until this moment. Everything in our chaotic lives brought us crashing together over and over and over again. Maybe it was time we both stopped fighting the waves and let them push us together.

When his lips touched mine, all I could see were fireworks. Like the only thing in the world that mattered was this moment. All I could hear were the beating of his heart, all I could feel was his skin on mine, all I could taste was him. Him, Steve, the one and only person that truly meant anything to me in this world, the only one I could trust without hesitation.

The moment felt like hours, the two of us entwined in each other, becoming one in this space where nothing else mattered. When we finally pulled apart from each other, panting for air we didn’t realize we needed, the world felt as if it had realigned itself. Without much more thought I picked him up and carried him to his bedroom, intent on reminding him that things didn’t have to be rough. We could be slow, deliberate, live in the moments that were the two of us and no one else, where things were soft, and quiet, and exactly how they needed to be.

That night, he slept on my chest, his hair an absolute mess, and the most gorgeous smile on his face.


End file.
